


Awkward

by shroomfairy



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Setting, Jerkoff Buddies, M/M, Oral, handjobs, kinkmeme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 18:42:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4930972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shroomfairy/pseuds/shroomfairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the outside, Marco Bodt was the poster boy of modesty and decency.<br/>Softspoken. Kind. <i>Proper</i>.<br/>What Jean had borne witness of was the antithesis of proper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awkward

**Author's Note:**

> Ancient kinkmeme fill.

_He’s your best friend. He may not tell you everything, but he is your best friend. Your best friend whom you might like just a little bit too much, and whom you’ve just caught with another boy._

Jean couldn’t quite describe the feelings this discovery had stirred in him. Jealousy? Yes, that certainly was a huge part of it. Jealous of whom, though? The other boy? Marco? Both of them? Was he merely jealous of them because they were getting some whereas he didn’t even have his first kiss yet, or was there more to it? The latter being a lane of thoughts which Jean dared not wander.

Besides, it wasn’t uncommon practice in the military to have a so-called jerkoff buddy. After all, what else was one supposed to do while stuck with dozens of other horny, hormonal boys, in a tight, cramped space, such as were the barracks. At that age, no boy had the guts to ask a girl for those kinds of things. Doing stuff with a friend was safe. One didn’t need to feel ashamed. There was no risk of unwanted pregnancies.

Connie had Thomas, for example, of which everybody was painfully aware of, since neither of them particularly cared about being quiet. Jean believed he’d heard Armin and Eren before, too. He hated Eren, but, damn, the boy sure sounded hot when he came. All soft, hushed moans, so contrary to his usual loud and agressive demeanor. Even Millius “Straight-as-a-Board” Zermusky said it wasn’t really gay because all you were doing was scratching a friend’s itch.  
Jean himself didn’t have anyone like that. In fact, he was so outlandishly shy when it came to these things, it was ridiculous. His fear of rejection was so immense, it would’ve dwarfed the Colossal Titan in comparison. Hence, he had never dared to approach anyone, and least of all Marco, too afraid it might backfire in the most horrible ways.

And then there were Reiner and Bertholdt who, as it turned out, apparently were not exclusive. At least not according to the happenings a few hours ago. Or maybe the rumours about them weren’t true after all? Not that Jean cared about that.

 _Reiner_. Just thinking of the older boy riled him up. It had been him whom he’d caught Marco with. Reiner Braun was the one who had fucked his best friend. 

Were they jerkoff buddies? Jean couldn’t remember them ever having talked all that much in the first place. Also, normally, such an agreement, if one wanted to call it that, didn’t entail to blowjobs or fucking. Fuck buddies then?  
Didn’t it mean Marco was into men; the fact that he’d let another boy do this to him? Did it mean there was something more going on between the two of them? 

Up until he’d seen him with Reiner, Jean didn’t even think his friend might be swinging that way. Not once had he heard him talk about sex. He’d never shown any interest in the subject whatsoever. Jean couldn’t recall a single instance of him having used one naughty word. So far, the only proof he got for Marco being fully functional, so to speak, was in the morning, and, until today, he’d actually been wondering if his friend ever even had any urges beyond the kind biology dictated via the means of morning wood. 

On the outside, Marco Bodt was the poster boy of modesty and decency.  
Softspoken. Kind. _Proper_. What Jean had borne witness of was the antithesis of proper. 

Did it really have to be Reiner Braun, though? That guy was the epitome of masculinity. How was he supposed to compete with that? 

Jean was not one to throw the towel so easily, though. Now, that he had proof of Marco’s preferences, he was going to find a way into his pants. Once he figured out a way to deal with his shyness, that was.

 

“Yo, Marco, you make out with someone before?“ 

It was during dinner when Jean dropped the question. He also made sure to sound as casual as possible. Marco seemed surprised, yet he answered truthfully.

“You fuck someone, too?” Well, at least you got fucked, right? _Semantics_.

“Yes, I have. Why?” So, Reiner was not his first. Unless they took turns which Jean highly doubted, gritting his teeth.

“Got a blowjob?” Oh, certainly. He’d seen it.

Marco proved to be as honest as usual, even looking him in the eye without so much as a hint of a blush. If he was thinking about what he’d done earlier, it didn’t show.

Jean gave a huge sigh and turned to glower at his bowl of onion soup. 

“Gracious Walls, if I don’t get laid soon, my balls are gonna burst!” 

His friend had the audacity to snort at that, for which he elbowed him not quite so playfully. “Not funny, you ass!”

“You’re aiming too high,” Marco informed him.

There was a strange pulling in his chest when he heard those words. Sort of painful, a kind of longing he didn't have a name for.

“What do you mean I’m aiming too high?!” Jean didn’t mean to snap.

“Mikasa?”

“Oh, I’m so over her,” he grumbled. It wasn’t completely true, though, and also one of the reasons he’d found himself in a constant state of confusion these past few months. Even a bisexual person couldn’t be lusting after two people at the same time, right?

“Are you now?” Yeah, why would your best friend, of all people, believe your half-baked lies?

What he felt for Mikasa was different from his feelings for Marco, though.  
She was a fantasy. A dream. Someone you craved from afar, damn well knowing it would forever remain just that; a fantasy, and nothing but. What Marco stirred in him was more tangible, more realistic, yet still out of reach. Jean couldn’t decide what was more frustrating.

“Shut up, Bodt! Eat your fucking soup!”

A little, secret fun fact: Marco hated onions.  
Tonight, Jean somehow found it oddly satisfying. 

 

~

 

Jean moved to lie on his side, trying to make out his friend’s face in the dark. Lights had been out for half an hour.  
Hoping everybody else was asleep already, he spoke in a hushed voice.

“So, how is it?” 

“How is what?”

“ _Sex_.”

Marco sighed, obviously very tired. “It’s great.” 

“Yeah, no shit... Tell me more!”

“It’s the best feeling in the world?”

“Come on, Marco! Sharing is caring!” He exclaimed loudly.

“Jean, people are trying to sleep! We have to get up at 5:30 in the morning.” His words were muffled from muttering into his pillow.

“Well, I’m horny. I can’t sleep! And you’re my best friend. Help me out here, man! Please?!” Jean hissed, hand instantly flying to cover his mouth. He didn’t mean to put it that way, but the words had been out before he could stop himself. Blushing furiously, he turned away from Marco.

“You need my help _falling asleep_?”

 _Yes, I do! It’s your fault I’m like this!_ Jean said nothing, cursing his dick for refusing to be satisfied with what he could provide and demanding more instead. He also cursed himself for his poor choice of words. Pathetic didn’t even begin to describe it.

“Do you now?” Marco’s voice had a strange ring to it, sounded kind of amused.

“Others do it, too, you know?!” Well, now, that the cat was out of the bag...

“Others do what, Jean?”

“Oh, you know! Help a friend in need!” Here, he pulled his blanket over his head. _I saw you fucking earlier! I’m pretty sure you’re gay, which, by the way, you’ve neglected to tell me! Me! Your best friend!_

What was up with that anyway? Jean couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed by his friend’s lack of trust. He always told Marco everything. Well, almost everything.

“So, basically, you are asking me to _help you_ via telling you about my sexual encounters?”

 _Actually, I’d like you to blow me, but I wouldn’t want to push it!_

For some odd reason, that proper speech of his only got Jean fired up more. Perhaps so, for he’d caught a glimpse of Marco’s true self.  
Calm waters apparently did not just run deep. They were dirty as hell, too. 

“W-well, uhh, yeah?” The levels of his awkwardness were absurd. Normally, Jean didn’t have any problems voicing his thoughts or wishes.

His friend sighed once again and got into a more comfortable position. “Alright then...”

Under the blanket, Jean felt his face go hot. He didn’t think Marco would actually agree to do it.

“I was fourteen when I had my first time. It was a friend from back home—“

Jean bit his lip. He didn’t want to hear about the lucky bastard who got to his best friend first. “N-no, tell me about, well, about stuff you’ve done?”

Images of Reiner pushing Marco against the wall popped up in his head. He wanted to hear about the raw passion he’d witnessed. How they’d been so into it, they nearly tore each others clothes off. He wanted to hear about the kisses they’d shared, and what it was like to get your cock sucked. 

He wanted Marco to tell him about those things. All those things. 

“What do you like the most? What gets you off?” Each question made him go redder and his arousal grow.

Marco chuckled, and the rustling of fabric was to be heard. Did he just move closer? “Well, there’s a few things. For example, I like kissing a lot. A good kiss makes you weak in the knees. Sometimes, a kiss is all that it takes.”

“You mean you can come from a kiss?” 

Marco’s hushed words about kissing already did a number on his cock. He wondered what it would be like to actually kiss him. Would it make him come, too? Right now, he was under the impression a simple smooch on the cheek would suffice.

“Oh, trust me, you can.”

How would he know? After all, he was still waiting for his first kiss to happen. Maybe he should— _No! Yes! No! Oh, fuck my life!_ Why couldn’t he even ask for something so simple as a kiss? _You’re such a pussy, Kirstein!_

“Mhm, what else? Oh, well, oral, obviously. But there really is no way to accurately describe the things a mouth and tongue can do to you. It’s one of the most intense feelings in the world. So hot, and so, so wet. Makes your mind go blank with need pretty fast.”

Oh, he believed it. He could still hear Marco’s moans from when Reiner had gone down on him. Jean wished he could be the one to make his friend moan like that. 

“I also like grinding. With or without clothes on. The former makes for good friction.”

By now, Jean was lying on his stomach, in search of just that. He couldn’t suppress a soft moan when he shoved his hand inside his pyjama pants and gripped himself tightly.

“Then there’s scratching and biting. Leaves a nice burning, prickling sensation on your skin. I especially like getting my neck bitten, or my back scratched, and the insides of my thighs.”

Jean whimpered into the mattress. Marco’s words were reflecting what he’d seen Reiner do to him. Again, something akin to jealousy washed over him.

“And dirty talk.”

Here, Jean swallowed hard. All he’d heard aside from moans and several telltale noises, which had made his own cock drip, the two boys hadn’t spoken much.

“Y-you and talking dirty?” He didn’t care about his moans any longer. An all too familiar heat was filling his loins. Unable to hold back, he thrust into his hand, picturing how Reiner had fisted his friend’s cock till his come squirted all over their chests in moist, sticky strings.

“Oh, you have no idea!”

And didn’t he know it, too!

“Then let me hear some—” So close. So fucking close. From just his memory and a few words. 

Marco gave another chuckle. “You want me to talk dirty to you, Jean? But have you earned that privilege yet?”

Holy Walls! _What?_

“Please, Marco! Come on!” He whined.

Marco seemingly ignored his plea. “Do you know what else I like?” His voice, normally warm and soft, had changed into a darker tone; like a drawl. “ _Begging_.”

Jean buried his face in his pillow, moving his hand rapidly now. 

His friend moved closer, his damp lips grazing the shell of his ear when he continued to speak. “ _Yeah, hearing someone beg me to give it to them good_ —” A whisper barely audible. “— _begging me to fuck them hard_!”

He came before Marco had even finished his sentence, biting into the fabric before him, to muffle what otherwise surely would’ve woken the whole barracks.

“Oh dear, and I didn’t even get started yet,” his friend laughed softly.

Jean merely groaned and reached for a handkerchief hidden under his pillow. It was true. Marco hadn’t shared all that much information with him. So very embarrassing.  
Wiping his come off of his hand and stomach, he closed his eyes. He couldn’t believe he’d just jerked off to his best friend talking about his sexual preferences.

“Well, I hope you’ll be able to find sleep now.” Marco moved to sit up.

“Where are you going?” he mumbled, relishing the high that came with release.

“Bathroom, Jean.” 

“You just went before we—oh.“

Here it was. His window. His opportunity. This was his moment.  
Reiner Braun lay several bunks away, ergo, he was out of the picture.

“You don’t have to, you know. I mean, I could—” 

_Gracious Walls_ , Jean thought. _Please let me right about this._

“I mean, I could suck you off, or something?” He offered shyly. Sure, he’d never done anything like it, but he’d seen Reiner do it. That should be enough, right?

 _Come on, say yes!_

What felt like an eternity to him were but a few seconds in reality; long enough to make him feel horribly self-conscious still. 

“Are you sure about that?”

Marco liked boys. Jean was convinced he did. Then why didn’t he just say yes?

“Y-yeah? You—you’re my best friend? And it’s—not like I haven’t done this before, you know?” _Kirstein, what the fuck!? Abort! Abort!_ “I got that buddy back home, in Trost. We do stuff all the time when I’m on leave. So, it’s no biggie!”

What in the world had just possessed him to come up with such a shitty lie? Again, the words had been out before he could restrain himself. Would he ever learn to think before speaking? Lying wasn’t his strong suit to begin with.  
Nevermind that Marco always was able to tell when he was making up bullshit.

 _He’s going to say no_. Jean knew he was. Why else would he be taking so long to “consider” his offer? Could it be he just wasn’t his type, and that he didn’t want to hurt his feelings? They were best friends after all. Plus, if Reiner was the type of guy Marco went for... Why did he even bother? Walls, he was an idiot!

Mind occupied with gloomy thoughts such as these, he lay there.  
When a hand came to lie above his own he flinched, hard.

“ _Okay_.“

A word so simple, and yet it shook him to the core. 

_Score_! Well, kind of. An okay constituted a yes, yes? 

Okay, what now? How to start? Where to even begin? Jean swallowed hard; his thoughts were a total mess. _Don’t screw this up!_

Marco still was holding his hand, giving him a gentle squeeze. It reassured him, helped him calm down a little. 

_You offered. Now deliver!_

Jean then decided to do what he always did when presented with a challenge. Approach the situation head-on. No matter how scared or nervous he was on the inside, he would never allow it to control his actions, never let it show.  
Pushing back his doubts, he snatched Marco’s blanket and dove underneath. 

He probably should start with touching him. Reiner had done so, too. Not that he wanted to think of _him_ right now.

In the dark, Jean couldn’t quite tell the distance between them, so when he wanted to put his hand on Marco’s hip, he got his stomach instead.  
For a moment, he let his hand linger, just took in the feeling of his friend’s warm, smooth skin against his fingertips, of strong muscles flexing when Marco got into a more comfortable position that would also allow Jean better access. 

Age-wise, they might have been set apart by a few months only, but Marco’s build was much more developed than his own, in comparison. These days, taking showers together had become rather challenging. Jean would often make up excuses, even got up half an hour early in the morning, or wait extra long for his turn in the evening. Anything, just so that he wouldn’t have to suffer through the ordeal of standing right next to the object of his affection, butt-naked, and with no way of escape should things become too obvious.

Now, though, he was allowed to touch what he’d admired from afar. And, holy Walls, did it excite him. His stomach felt like it was doing particularly taxing 3D manoeuvres. Still, if he didn’t decide on his next move soon, Marco would figure out he had no fucking idea what he was doing.

_This is what you get for having such a big mouth, Kirstein. You better put it to good use for once!_

Edging a little closer, palm gingerly gliding south, Jean hooked his fingers with the hem of Marco’s pyjama pants. Just barely below his hips he pulled them.  
Luckily, his friend couldn’t see him in the dark, couldn’t see that even his ears were glowing by now. Even so, Jean faced downward, made sure not to look at him. 

What a silly thing to do, he told himself, slowly dipping his hand inside Marco’s pants. When he dragged his fingernails along the juncture of his hip and thigh, Marco gave an appreciative hum.  
It brought back to mind what he had said earlier, about scratching and biting, so Jean repeated his move. 

“ _Mhm_ —”

With his other hand, he cupped him through the fabric, his touch so light there was barely any contact. Palm carefully enveloping the hardness below, Jean licked his lips, couldn’t believe he was, in fact, touching his best friend in such an intimate way. Marco sighed appreciatively.  
Remembering his words again, and using them as a guide, Jean applied more friction. His deeds were met with a shudder which only turned more prominent once he rolled his thumb over the tip of his arousal. 

Hearing Marco’s moans, knowing it was _him_ bringing them forth this time, triggered a warm, blissful sensation in his chest and stomach. So many nights he’d lain awake, longing for him, his best friend, dreaming about sharing more than just brotherly hugs with him. Finally, his cravings were being fulfilled, if only partly so.

Jean moved to nuzzle him through his pants, ran his lips along the shaft in a way someone else might have called teasingly. Marco gasped again, once he reached its end, heat of his breath seeping through cotton soaked with precome, teasing his glans. Encouraged now, he planted a chaste kiss there, and hooked his fingers with his pants once more. From above, Marco whispered words like “yes” and “more”. Words that revived his own lust.  
Jean raked his teeth over his hipbone while freeing his member. His friend’s immediate response was another, louder moan, and he jerked lightly, squirming just a little bit.

Jean drew his tongue across his loins, hungering for more of those moans. _Deeper_. 

With one hand, he resumed to stroke his cock, felt its width and length. It lay heavy in his palm, a bit thicker than his own. Again, he nuzzled it, smearing precome on his cheek as he did so, before turning his head to make good on his offer.  
Out of curiosity, Jean had tasted his own come before, so he didn’t hesitate much before flicking his tongue out. Marco’s taste was different from his own, but not unpleasant. 

_I’m doing it. I’m really doing it. Oh shit!_

Instinctively careful with his teeth, he closed his lips around him. 

Deeper, he took him; as deep as he could, which wasn’t that much to be honest. It had looked so easy when Reiner had done it. Closing his eyes, Jean decided to banish that guy from his thoughts for good. 

Marco was combing his fingers through his hair, palm resting on the back of his head, but without pushing down. His moans, now a little muffled, turned heavier. Was he biting down on his knuckles? Jean always did that to keep quiet. If only he could see him right now.  
Swirling his tongue around the tip, lightly sucking on it, he saw to it to make him moan some more.

“Jean, stop—” It came out as a pant. “ _Stop_.”

Surprised, he looked up. Why didn’t he want him to continue? Did he do something wrong?

“ _Come here_.”

Marco gently pulled him up till he was lying half on top of him, and wrapped his arms around his back.

“You and your, ah, buddy, what else do you do?” He whispered, lips to his cheek

Why did he care about that stupid, imaginary friend of his now, of all times? It had been nothing but a lie! Though Marco’s voice did sound incredibly hot when he spoke, much darker and filled with need.

“Uhm, everything?” _Still with the shitty lies, Kirstein_...

At this point, he was fully hard again. It was obvious Marco could feel it, too, from the way he was rubbing his thigh against his cock.

“Do you kiss?”

“Y-yeah?” 

Even though it was dark, Jean could tell Marco was trying to read his expression as well as the tone of his voice. 

_He knows. Fuck, he knows!_

Marco may not have been Armin Arlert; he wasn’t exactly booksmart, but he was far from stupid. More, like, “peoplesmart”, if that was a word. Jean wasn’t at all good with words. Unless putting your foot in your mouth on a daily basis counted, or coming up with shitty lies. His talents lay elsewhere. Jean knew as much, and normally he couldn’t have cared less either. Right now, though?

 _“Do you want to kiss?_ ” Marco’s hand made lazy circles on the small of his back. 

Was he testing him? 

“Sure, why not?” Oh, he wanted to so badly, he’d been fantasising about it for a while now.

A sneaky hand wandered to squeeze his buttocks. “Then kiss me.” Marco bucked against him, successfully claiming a moan. 

Was he toying with him?

“ _What are you waiting for?_ ”

Did he want him to tell the truth?

Jean froze, lying there in his friend’s strong embrace. He’d managed to suck his dick, and yet he was unable to do so much as give him a peck on the cheek. How very ironic.

He buried his face in Marco’s neck, shaking lightly. “W-we don’t kiss often? So, uhh, I’m not sure if I’m any good at it?” _Blasted Wall Maria, stop making up bullshit, you idiot!_

At least, when it came to this he could’ve been honest.  
After all, the number one rule between jerkoff buddies was “kissing is gay, you don’t do that shit!”. 

“Oh Jean... _Let me find out for myself, why don’t you, hm_?” 

Palm to his cheek, Marco tilted his head, his breath tingling his skin. Soft and warm and gentle. Gentle like the lips then connecting with his. A small gasp left him when Marco’s tongue pried them open, seeking entrance. Sparks of pleasure shot right through him, kickstarting a torrent of more powerful ones that made his body sing.  
Marco kept him close, strengthening his hold on him while deepening the kiss. Sensual and slow, he licked at his tongue, urging it on to join his in its passionate dance.

Jean let out a whimper. If his frantic heartbeat was any indication, he was going to burst any minute now. His friend’s statement earlier, about kissing, did not do this any justice. Not one single, coherent thought was left on his mind.

Marco shifted in his position, spreading his legs just a little, and rolling his hips invitingly. With both his hands he grabbed Jean’s ass and pulled down his pants. Anything Jean might have wanted to say resulted in a low groan instead when their arousals met. Marco’s still was slick from when he had it in his mouth. It only intensified the sensation. Lightheaded, he let himself be kissed again, let his needs take control over his senses.  
Between kisses, Marco removed their shirts. Skin on skin now, Jean clung to him, hands exploring his body greedily. Before tonight, the closest he’d got to him had been during sparring sessions, which often had left him horny and desperate, to the point where he had begun dreading being paired up with Marco. 

“ _I’ve always wanted to do this with you, Jean,_ ” he murmured, damp lips moving against the corner of his mouth.

Words that touched something deep inside of him, made his heart miss a beat. 

His last of inhibitions and doubts fading away, Jean answered his thrusts likewise, rocking into Marco’s hand which the boy had wrapped around both their members. It felt so good. He knew exactly how to touch him. His fingers skilled and practiced, he rubbed their lengths together with just the right amount of pressure. Slick and hot, and so fucking good. Sweat was beading on Jean’s temples and forehead; his moans swallowed by feverish kisses.

A lust so strong he had never experienced before. He could feel himself getting closer and closer. _More_.  
This time, it would be him leading the pace of their kisses.  
Neither of them took note of the bunk creaking noisily, nor were they able to care about being quiet at this point. _Harder_.  
Marco was driving him crazy with his hand. He couldn’t hold out any longer. _Fuck!_

Jean left a mark on his shoulder, stifling a loud moan when he came for the second time tonight. Marco instantly followed suit, both their releases creating a sticky mess between them.

But he wouldn’t move— _couldn’t_ —chest rapidly rising and falling with each breath. No orgasm had ever hit him this hard.

Marco placed a small, wet kiss on his cheek, arms still holding him firmly. He whispered something in his ear—it sounded very appreciative—but Jean was too exhausted to make much sense of anything right now. Sleep came quickly, and he had already drifted into the realm of dreams before he knew it. 

The last thing he remembered were warm, strong arms around him, and how good they made him feel. Safe.

 

~

 

“Had a good night?” Connie stood before him with a sour expression on his face. “Cause I sure as hell didn’t!”

The boy had been glaring at him all morning.

Jean had a pretty good idea of where this was going.

“Tough luck, man. I hear you all the time! You _and_ Thomas, I might add!” He snapped, a rosy colour already tinting his cheeks.

Connie and Thomas shared the bunks above his and Marco’s. Of course, he and Connie would be the first to find out about certain things. Although, Thomas had not acted any differently around him this morning. Maybe he’d slept through it all?

“Oh really!? Well, unlike you two, we don’t actually fuck each other!”

“Shut up, Springer! _We weren’t fucking!_ And keep it down, will you!?”

Right now, they were alone. For this, he did have to give Connie credit. He had waited till no one was around before approaching him. But if he kept making such noise, the others surely would come running.

“Could’ve fooled me, from the way you made the bunk shake!”

It was then that Marco walked around the corner.

“You jealous, or what!?!” Jean hissed at Connie while spotting his friend.  
Marco merely shook his head, grinning.

 _You traitor! How about you help me out here instead of just standing there, enjoying the show?!_

“Okay, so, what were you doing then?” Obviously cranky from lack of sleep, Connie, of course, demanded answers, or maybe even details. Who knew? “I’d like to know what robbed me of my sleep!”

“Now, now, Connie. A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell,” Marco interrupted him, grin still present. “Let me apologise on his behalf. We’ll be more, ah, considerate next time.”

By now, Jean was so red in the face, his head might have damn well been on the verge of exploding. At least, Connie finally decided to give it a rest and left.

“Thanks for the help, man,” Jean grumbled, cheeks burning. “Did you have to indulge him?!”

Marco wound his arms around him from behind and put his chin on his shoulder. 

“ _It’s Connie. He won’t tell anyone._ ”

“I know, but why would you—“ 

He failed to finish his sentence, sucking in a breath when his friend started to nibble at his earlobe. 

“And why did you apologise on my behalf?! You weren’t too quiet yourself—”

“You know, Jean. There’s something I wanted to tell you,” Marco ignored his rants and ground into him, fingers entwining with the straps of his harness to keep him close.

Now blushing for a whole different reason altogether, Jean blinked. “Y-yeah? What’s that?”

“It’s about something you asked of me yesterday.”

Jean had no idea what Marco was talking about. He tried to wrack his brain, but he couldn’t think of anything he might have just been referring to, too busy with feeling that strong, broad chest against his back, and his warmth. Already, his trousers were growing too tight.

“Huh? I—don’t understand?”

When Marco answered it was in a drawl he’d only used once in his presence. 

“I want to _fuck_ you, Jean. I want to fuck you, _good and hard_.” 

 

And Jean remembered.


End file.
